


The Rest of Our Lives

by cadkitten



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Frottage, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-13
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many things in Grantaire's life that didn't quite mash up with how he honestly wished things would be. But as with most things in his grand voyage amongst the living, he simply accepted them and moved forward step-by-step into the darkness or the light he was provided as the days crawled on. Even when the man he loved joined a cause he couldn't find the necessity to back... he followed without question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rest of Our Lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherrylng](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylng/gifts).



> Had to spent 2 hours researching lube used in the early 1800s in order to find olive oil was probably most common. Still no idea if I'm right or not, but dang it, two hours to get lube right is enough, lol. No condoms because only the affluent and perhaps mid-class would have had them. Lower class didn't start using such things until the 1900s according to information I found. There's your sex history for the day.  
> Beta Readers: sakura_ame  
> Song[s]: "Hole" by Echostream

There were many things in Grantaire's life that didn't quite mash up with how he honestly wished things would be. But as with most things in his grand voyage amongst the living, he simply accepted them and moved forward step-by-step into the darkness or the light he was provided as the days crawled on. Even when the man he loved joined a cause he couldn't find the necessity to back... he followed without question. He stepped into the world of this man that still had barely recognized his existence and proceeded forward with whatever it was that they were pushing in their agenda.

The days slid on and eventually, they found themselves in a stage that would no longer allow for them to turn their backs on what was going on. There would be no backing out for Grantaire no matter how much he maybe wished he could have by then. He lay on his cot, listening to the rain fall against the street just outside his bedroom door. He wasn't really in bed because he was tired but more because there was nothing more to be doing. Plans had been laid, his part in whatever was going on was more than finished, and he'd run out of candles sometime last week. His oil lamp lay to the side without a single drop of oil in it for the time being. There were only so many things you could take care of in the dark and he'd done his best to try them all already. He'd cleared the table by feel alone, washed the dishes in the same manner and set them aside for fear that they weren't actually clean rather than attempting to put them away. He'd changed his bed, but he had no idea if he'd used the matching linens - his mother having long ago embroidered patterns onto the pillow cases and the top sheets, insisting it kept him from wearing one set out faster than the other.

He'd swept and piled the dirt in a corner blocking it with a container so he could clean it up later when he could actually see what he was doing with it. And finally, he'd take what little of a bath he was afforded here, taking care of a few other of nature's needs before he retired to the bed, only to stare up at the inky blackness of the ceiling while he listened to the pitter-patter of rain against the window and the roof.

Rolling onto his side, he tugged the covers up over his form, shivering unhappily. He could still remember the one time in the past while he'd had a lover in his bed. The feeling of another body's warmth pressed against his own... the draw of their breath in the darkness coming as a sort of placation for him. It had been purely pleasure for him, but he'd kept them around for a few months and they'd returned to warm his bed time and again until they moved on to another city, only passing through for what turned out to be a variety of reasons.

But tonight, he wanted nothing more than Enjolras in his bed. No one else would do any longer and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was his obsession with the man that had driven him here. Yes, he was naturally more attuned to a male partner, but the fact was that Enjolras usually wasn't his type. He tended to like men larger than him, stronger and more forceful, dark hair and dark eyes. But Enjolras was blonde and blue eyed, not really what Grantaire would have considered a larger man and they'd proven on more than one occasion that Grantaire was stronger than the other. And yet... he'd been nothing but enraptured with the blonde since the first moment he'd laid eyes on him. And to make it worse, he'd started to have a wider variety of feelings for him as of late. He'd thought of him in his dreams, made love to him in his mind's eye with the passionate wandering of his hands over his own body. On more than one occasion, he'd intentionally come around while he knew Enjolras was changing or urinating just so that he could have a look at him to fit into his fantasies. 

It was wrong and he knew it, but some part of him simply couldn't cope with the idea of not getting a man he desperately wanted in just the way he wanted him. He swallowed a few times and then rolled over onto his side, choosing to stare at the vague shadow of his window, a streetlamp from nearly a block away giving a faint light for him to see just the smallest shape of the window in the darkness. Lightning streaked through the sky, momentarily casting everything in bright white light and deep black shadow. He closed his eyes then and breathed out a sigh, heaving out a single wish to the world. He just wanted to see Enjolras tonight... confess he need to have the man in his bed directly to his face. Perhaps it was silly. Normal people wished on falling stars. But growing up, Grantaire had never seen a falling star and eventually his mother had told him everyone else was wrong, that you were supposed to wish on lightning strikes instead. For years he'd believed her. But now... now he knew the difference and he knew that both things were equally as silly, though the superstition within him kept the habit alive - just as it kept him from walking beneath ladders and from picking up any coin that lay face down when he found it.

Silly or not, the knock that came on his door startled him from his thoughts and he heaved himself out of bed, assuming the worst: a lawman come to arrest him for his involvement or someone to tell him that one of his precious few relatives had passed. His bare feet padded across the floor as he made his way to the door, opening it without checking who it was first, there being little point in the action given if it were someone who wanted in... in they would come, regardless if he opened it or not.

Enjolras stood on the other side of the wooden barricade, the faint glow from a lamp he was holding casting shadows along the corridor. Grantaire leaned on the door, stepping back to make room for the other, a soft breath of a laugh leaving him. Here was his wish, right in front of him, dripping wet from the rain and- he cut the thought short, a smirk on his lips. The perfect opportunity to help him from his wet clothing and right into his bed, he surmised.

He closed the door firmly and then moved to retrieve the lamp from Enjolras' hand, placing it on the tiny wooden table near his stove. The place was cramped, but functional at least. Sometimes he wished for more space, but right now he was thankful for the lack of room... the closeness to the other man as he brushed around him to lift the sodden material of his jacket from his shoulders, wordlessly sliding it off, Enjolras simply allowing it. He hung it by the door to dry and Grantaire quietly suggested that he take his shoes off and leave them to dry by the door as well.

Minutes later, he the other down to his trousers, a spare cloth wrapped around his torso. Grantaire picked up the lamp and led Enjolras to the bed without a single word, putting the lamp on the rickety table beside the small bed and then urging the other onto the thin mattress. He knelt then, rubbing his hands next to the warmth of the oil lamp, his eyes on the other man's body, pleasure written across his face as he took in the view. The pale flesh of a man, the smallest of treasure trails running from his belly button down beneath his trousers to meet up with hair of another sort that would surround a portion of the other's body that forced a shiver to work through his body as he thought about it.

It took him a few minutes to find the nerve, but eventually he allowed his confession to grace the air around him, the words leaving his lips in the most straight-forward fashion he could manage without the fear of scaring the other right back out the door lingering around the edges. Much to his surprise, though perhaps not nearly as much as he would have thought, Enjolras answered in the most sincere of fashions, his gaze never wavering from Grantaire's face as he spoke. The words they exchanged seemed to almost linger on the air, the pair of them somehow at ease with the topic at hand, neither skittish with the concepts of love or lust. Even when the word obsession may have graced the somewhat stale air of the room, Enjolras never flinched away from it.

In time, the lamp was extinguished and Grantaire could hear the rustle of clothing as the man he'd grown so affectionate of completely disrobed and moved beneath the covers. His own trousers found their home upon the foot of the bed before he rolled toward the blonde man, one thigh slipping over Enjolras' own, his groin pressing tightly to the other man's own. He could feel the chill in the other's body as it sucked the heat from his own and he breathed the words of encouragement into the other's ear, telling of the ways in which heat could be exchanged in the darkness until he began to feel the other's arousal press against his thigh in response. 

They took their time, touches being exchanged in the darkness of the room, the rustle of covers and the creak of the metal beneath the mattress forcing the knowledge of the obviousness of their actions. Even as Grantaire slid his body over Enjolras' own, setting them groin against groin, he could already hear the frantic squeak of metal from one of the rooms around them, their actions - or perhaps the chill from outside - having inspired such nocturnal activities of another in the building. He braced his hands on the thin pillow under Enjolras' head, starting to buck his hips against the other man's own, grinding slowly and efficiently, earning each noise that was pulled from the other's throat, each jerking movement of his body, and every rasping breath through some action or other. 

The minutes slid past until, finally, Grantaire reached beneath the mattress. He pulled a small flask out and moved away from the other long enough to open it and drizzle some of the slick contents onto his length. Recapping the container, he put it back where it had been and then reached down, using his hand to slick the olive oil over Enjolras' cock, bringing a groan from the other man's lips. His pulse fluttered quickly in anticipation of what was to come as he moved over him, holding his cock and pressed himself ever so slowly down upon him. It was almost surprising he fit with minimal pain, the fact that he'd been using something of his own making for such pleasure for a while now likely had a lot to do with it.

His fingers wrapped around his own dick, stroking as he began to ride Enjolras, his hips slightly sliding backward as he lifted and then forward as he slid down on his length. Before long they'd set up a pace that rather matched the one still frantically coming from one of the other rooms. His hand worked quickly over his length, the slickness of the oil providing him with the most pleasurable of feelings alongside the gentle gasps and moans he heard from his now-lover. 

The thrill of finally getting what he wanted, and after so long of a spell with no one warming his bed, was nearly too much for him. Before long, his hips were jerking erratically, his breathing coming in unregulated pants, and his sac was tight up against his body. His cock ached in his hand, the length of it throbbing with the need of his release. The simple fear of being interrupted was what threw him over the edge, forcing his hand well before he'd intended to show it. With a hitching gasp, he lost it, his hand jerking sharply up his length with each pulse, Enjolras moaning beneath him in a way that told him he was definitely pleasing the other man with his orgasm.

Within seconds, he was on his bed and Enjolras was pounding into him, the sound of their union growing more and more frantic as the other labored over him. His own fingers danced over Enjolras' chest and arms, and then down to feel where they were being joined. A groan fell from his lips as the blonde slammed into him twice more and then stilled, his body trembling as he filled Grantaire with his cum. They remained that way for longer than he would have expected, Enjolras straining over him, his hips giving the tiniest of thrusts, though the power behind them was incredible each time. At long last, he finally relented, easing up and pulling out.

Enjolras rolled to the side and lay there panting softly as Grantaire pulled the covers up around them, keeping close to his side. He stroked his hand over the other's hip, pillowing his head on his own arm as he closed his eyes. They didn't speak, not finding the need to do so. Grantaire lay awake long enough to hear Enjolras' breathing even out and even as he eased himself down the tunnel toward sleep, the room brightened for an instant, thunder rolling somewhere close by, and he sent off one final wish: to live the rest of his life with this man.

**The End**


End file.
